


Love Song

by jackieburkhart



Series: In a Dream [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Carl Grimes, Anal Sex, Bottom Carl Grimes, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Protective Negan, Rimming, Shane Walsh Being an Asshole, Top Negan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackieburkhart/pseuds/jackieburkhart
Summary: Carl Grimes had what seemed like the perfect life. Until the dead started walking, that is. He wasn't sure he'd survive this new, harsh world and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. Everything changed the moment he crossed paths with Negan, another survivor.Or, in a world in which Negan doesn't lead the Saviours, his relationship with Carl Grimes is a different one.
Relationships: Carl Grimes/Negan
Series: In a Dream [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894957
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simpfnegan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpfnegan/gifts).



> Gail, thank you so much for helping me with ideas and listening to my cegan rants. You helped make this tiny headcanon into something that I needed to write <3

Negan slumped onto the pavement, face covered by his hands as he tried to steady his breathing. _Fuck._ Lucille had died months ago, one moment she'd been speaking to him, voice strained, and on her next breath, she had gone silent, the beeping of machines the only noise in the too bright, too clinical room. He hadn't been able to go home, to see their things, to deal with the fact that Lucille would never be in their home, would never be anywhere again. He had cooped himself up in a cheap hotel room, living out of a small suitcase he used to bring with him to stay at the hospital. The news had droned on for months about strange events, cannibals spotted in New York and attacks that left victims chewed up. Lucille was dead, he was alone and the world had gone to shit. Negan had noticed that atmosphere; the way that people were on edge, the burning buildings, cars and looting. Police sirens and screams were the noise he fell asleep to. Every day, the news channel said the same; the government would get it under control, that it was nothing to panic about. He had managed to stay inside his room for a long time, eating the hotel food and using their laundry room, never needing to go back to the real world, to face the daunting reality of a lonely life in a messed up world. Then, the hotel had kicked him out, along with all the other guests, ignored their clamouring and questions and had shut down completely.

Looking around for the first time in months left him staggered, the stench of death so pungent that he had gagged and heaved. It looked like something from a horror movie, abandoned streets splattered with blood and burnt buildings that left the air smoky and difficult to breathe. "What the fuck is going on," he mumbled, already missing the small room he had locked himself in. Bins clattered behind him and suddenly, bony hands clutched at him from behind, gasping and groaning filling the otherwise quiet street. Negan let out a shout, scrambling to his feet as he tried to get the hands off his neck.

"What the hell! Get off me!"

The hands remained persistent, the sound of teeth clacking making him think of the headlines and he staggered, kicking the person. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you but you can't just.. _what the fuck?!"_ His attacker looked, well, dead, rotting flesh sticking to visible bones, the stench making him gag again. The thing kept trying to grab him, no matter how much he kicked and threw at it. Negan's hands ached as he blindly grasped at the pavement, trying to find something to defend himself with, letting out a sigh of relief as he grabbed a shard of glass. "Look, man, if you don't move the hell away, I'm putting this into your damn neck, alright?" The maniac didn't back away, foaming at the mouth as he snarled at him, hands still trying to pull him close. Negan's breathing sped up as his shaking hands stabbed the man attacking, pushing him back. "Jesus," he muttered, standing up. "I have to call the fucking cops now, don't I-"

Negan gasped, stepping back as the man rose again as if Negan hadn't just stabbed him in the neck, snarling and growling.

"The neck won't do! You have to aim for the head or they'll keep coming!" Negan swerved around, trying to find the source of the voice to no avail before turning back to the maniac that was getting closer to him with each breath. Quickly, Negan grabbed the loose metal pipe near him and grunted with effort as he hit the man over and over, blood roaring in his ear as he did until he stopped moving. When he stood up and looked at the smashed head in front of him, Negan heaved, his hands going to his forehead as he tried to calm down. "Oh fuck. Fuck." Quiet footfalls made his head snap up, aware of how guilty he must look. A tall, lanky teenager stood near him, observing the corpse on the ground, then looking up at him. Well _shit._ Those jewel-like eyes, with sweeping long lashes, focused on him.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit shaken up. Was that your first?"

Negan didn't know whether to laugh or not; the kid couldn't possibly be serious. "Kid, tell me you're joking. No, I'm _not_ okay, I just _killed_ someone!"

The teen's brows raised, hands splayed as if to calm Negan as he approached. "You can't kill someone already dead. If you hadn't gone for the head, he would've bit you. Then you'd be like him too. Is that what you want?"

Negan scoffed, "Look, I don't know what the hell you're on about but I need to call the cops-"

"Have you been living under a rock? Look around you! There are no cops anymore, it's just survivors and the walkers. Oh, and you're welcome by the way. If I hadn't told you where to aim, you'd be walker food by now. That's what we call them by the way."

Negan let out a shaky breath, trying to deal with everything the kid had said, "Right, thanks, kid. I've been cooped up this whole time. Guess I missed the world going to shit."

"The world's been shit for a while. You swear a lot. Also, I have a name, I'm Carl."

Negan's mouth twitched, "Nice to meet you, Carl. I'm Negan."

Carl scrutinised him for a few moments before speaking again, "So, Negan, you got a place to stay?"

His first instinct kicked in that would never change, "Why, you interested?" He didn't miss the flush that suddenly covered those freckled cheeks despite the kid's furrowed brow and scoff, "It's the end of the world. You're going to need weapons, food, water, people and walls if you're going to make it. I'm asking because even though you seemed fucking clueless, you still handled yourself well. The group I'm in, we could use a hand."

Negan surveyed the area, ruined and almost unrecognisable. He didn't even want to think about what his home looked like, imagining it looking destroyed, empty and barren of the love that had once filled it made his stomach turn. The kid was right; if he was going to make it, he wasn't going to do it alone. As much as he hated to admit it, he preferred survival in this damaged world over facing the terrible unknown of death. He wasn't going to die, not until he was _damn_ good and ready. "I don't have anywhere to go. Hell, the woman I loved is gone but I'm not going down without a fight so, why not?"

Carl drew his lower lip between his teeth, looking down. "Yeah, I get that feeling." He pointed to the store in front of them, "It's been mostly looted but the back has been inaccessible for weeks, walkers and two locks means it's untouched. It could be food or clothes or anything we can use until we can make our stuff." Negan nodded and they approached the back of the store, careful to avoid riling up the walkers inside. Carl fished his front pockets for a multitool and handed Negan a pocket knife, "Here, watch my back until I can pry this lock, yeah?"

The kid worked quick, prying the locks in a few minutes as Negan surveyed their surroundings.

"Okay, let's go," Carl whispered, drawing his knife. They approached the back, mindful of the groans a few meters away. There were several boxes filled with canned food and bottled water as well as a few packaged snacks. Carl grinned, his face lighting up at the sight and he leaned in, murmuring, "Okay, let's move these to the car out front as quietly as we can then get the hell out of here." Between them, they managed to heave the boxes to the small car, careful to avoid any attraction; dead or living. As they walked, Negan whispered the questions that had been roaming around in his mind since meeting the kid, "So, no army? No cops? It's just people now?"

Carl's brows furrowed, "At the very start, there was the army. They were around for a while but I guess there were too many walkers because they left the settlements and nobody's heard anything since. Cops were either wiped out early on or they're with other citizens. There's one in my camp who's calling the shots right now. Speaking of, we really should get back, it'll be late soon."

The journey back was accompanied by hushed music and more questions.

"I know I talk a lot, so if you ever want to tell me to shut it-"

"I like it. The talking. Everyone's sad and quiet and I know why but I miss the talking, even if it's about nothing. Anyway, you're a good listener too, even if you do talk a lot," Carl turned to grin at him, making Negan smile back; his smile was infectious and Negan felt himself slack in his seat, head tilting back as he closed his eye for a few moments. A few moments had been an hour as the gentle rocking of the car came to a halt and he felt small hands shake him, "Hey, we're here." The loud clink of the belt unbuckling brought him back to reality as he rubbed his eyes, moving out of the car slowly. Carl's hand went to his shoulder and Negan's lips quirked up when he realised the kid was slightly on his tiptoes. "You can rest again soon, don't worry. Come meet everyone and don't worry, they can be a little tense but they'll warm up to you." The thought of being surrounded by strangers suddenly made him fidget, unsure. It had been a long time since he'd been around this many people, especially strangers. Carl had been different, easy to talk to and relaxing to be around but the thought of tense strangers made his stomach turn.

Carl standing near him made him relax, regain that confident stance and gait as they walked up to the campfire. The kid cleared his throat and gestured to Negan, "Hey, guys. So, as I said on the walkie, I found a survivor who helped me get a lot of good stuff. This is Negan, Negan meet Lori, Carol, Dale, Glenn, Andrea and Amy. There are others around here somewhere." Negan nodded to them as they all murmured their greetings before turning back to their work. "Come on," the kid smiled, "let's get some food in you." As soon as they were secluded in a tent, Negan sat back, glad to be away from that abandoned town. He focused on Carl again as the kid handed him a plastic bag and a fork. "It's just some rations. It's spaghetti with meatballs. You can have more after, I just figured you might need some lunch until then." The kid sat beside him, knees bumping, as he dug into his rations.

"I don't want to pry or anything but earlier you said you knew how I felt? When I told you I lost someone I loved."

Carl worried his lip between his teeth and nodded, "Yeah, um, my dad. Before this, he got shot. He was in the hospital when this went down. Shane went to see him but he came back without him, said he was dead. I didn't even get to see him." The kid had his head cast down, hands in fists and Negan felt his chest tighten, he knew all about that mixture of sadness and anger, so strong it left one reeling. Hesitating, Negan brought his larger hand to the kid's knee and squeezed. "Yeah. I lost someone in the hospital too. It fucking sucks. No amount of condolences change shit so I won't waste your time. I do think he'd be proud of you though, even without having met him." Carl looked up, striking blue eyes watery and lip trembling, the sight making Negan's breath hitch.

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah. The way you helped me today? The way you're so damn resourceful? Of course, he'd be proud, kid. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Carl smiled, smaller hand on top his larger one, "Thank you, for saying that, for listening. Sometimes, it feels like nobody else does." Negan knew what that was like too, having grown up with absent parents who never really gave him the time of day or listened, it had left him angry with his parents, with the world around him and seeking attention in mostly negative ways. The habit had stuck, even with Lucille, it was hard to connect when all you wanted to do was fucking scream. "You can talk to me. I'll talk your head off but I'm a damn good listener."


	2. Chapter 2

Carl ran his hand across the rotten wood, careful to avoid the rusting nails jabbing out. The smell of moss and musty closets filled the air, making his nose wrinkle. The air was icy and dry, causing puffs of mist to materialise in front of his face every time he exhaled. He took small, cautious steps across the uneven floor, narrowly avoiding the gaping gaps in the floorboards. Adrenaline pumped through every inch of his body, elevating his heart rate and making every sense sharper. Every breath, every footstep, every scuttle the rats made. He could hear it all. Any second, a walker could come near or even worse, another scavenger. Walkers were dead; if one was careful, it was easy to avoid them but people were dangerous, fast and strong. A clatter behind him made Carl’s head snap up. He walked quicker, pushing himself through the wispy cobwebs, shuddering at the sensation.

Falling. Suddenly falling to the ground, as though the floor had been pulled out from under him. A shriek escaped his lips before he could help it, muffled by a laugh above him. “Got ya, scaredy-cat. Who’d you think it was?” Carl frowned despite the small quirk of his lips, fists colliding with the strong chest above him.

“Negan! You fuckin’ scared me. Christ, I thought you were a scavenger or something.”

Carl felt Negan’s hand grip his, squeezing before pulling him to his feet. “Sorry, kiddo. You’re too easy. What’re you doin’ so far from camp anyway, huh?”

He felt his cheeks flush as he crossed his arms, “I’m not easy and I was scavenging for more food. The food we got will last us a while longer but it doesn’t hurt to have spare, especially if we plan on fixing that radio and bringing more people with us.”

Negan rolled his eyes, lifting Carl’s backpack to his shoulder, “Not if your stepdad Shane has his way. Fuckin’ asshole. What’s up his ass anyway, huh? He’s always breaking my balls over nothing.”

Weeks had passed by with a few incidents; roamers sneaking into camp, broken defences and the rare scavenger looking to steal. Fortunately, no deaths had occurred yet and the rest of the camp had been more or less relaxed, except for Negan and Shane who were constantly arguing.

Carl nudged him, “How many times, he’s _not_ my stepdad. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like you because he thinks you like my mom.” Carl pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes at the thought of Negan with his mom. It wasn’t like Negan was _his_ to be possessive over but he certainly wasn’t attracted to the idea of sharing him with anyone else. Since he had joined their small group, they had become inseparable; going on trips together, having breakfast together in their tents and staying up until sunrise to talk. The thought of losing that to someone else made him feel jealous in a way that he’d never felt before.

Negan laughed; it was the kind of laughter that one could feel in one’s lungs, so hard that it took his breath away. Suddenly, Carl felt all the worry of the past few days melt away like snow on a warm and sunny day. This laughter created a small vacation, a delightful relief from all the distress that shoved its way into his brain. For a single moment, the end of the world did not matter. All that mattered was this, him and Negan in a small, wretched cabin hidden away from the rest of the world. He lost the tightness in his chest and Negan’s laugh faded, replaced with his teasing grin.

“Why the hell would I want Lori when you’re right here in front of me, hmm?”

Carl felt his body heat up; cheeks pinked. “I- Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to ignore the obvious wobble in his voice. Negan snickered, nudging him as he walked through the cabin’s door. “Come on, kid. Everyone’s expecting us back by now. Don’t want them to get ideas, do we?” Negan waggled his brows at him making Carl snort, “Oh my God. Just walk, will you?”

They walked through the thick woods, the leaves on the ground soft and moistened from the recent rain. Trips like these, whether they were to the woods or to small, abandoned stores made him feel something again. Something other than fear and the natural, animal instinct to survive. It was a terrifying thought, being alone in this world, the only reason to wake up every day being survival. For a while, Carl had wondered if that was all he would become; a shell of his past self, focused solely on survival no matter what, remnants of twisted anger and the grappling squeeze of fear all he would feel.

“You know I have your back, right? If Shane starts bothering you again, I mean.”

Negan was a good listener, the kind that one could never tire of talking to. Negan knew what raw pain felt like; as if someone had carved into one’s chest with their hands and left a gaping hole there. Negan knew what it was like to try and fill that space with other things, like trying to fit in wrong pieces of a puzzle and ending up feeling emptier than before. Before him, there had been no one to understand the pain of wondering what had happened to his father; if he was dead, had he turned, become just another monster to kill?

He couldn’t talk to his mother about his dad; she would pull away every time or change the subject. Carl saw how much time she spent with Shane, saw the glances, had understood the moment that Shane had snapped, thinking that Negan was interested in Lori. It had made him want to scream until his voice went hoarse and ran out. It made his skin crawl at how quickly they had moved on as if Rick hadn’t been a husband, a best friend since infancy. Negan had understood, hadn’t told him off for his anger, hadn’t told him to calm down. He had listened then snapped back about how he couldn’t stand Shane. It hadn’t escaped Carl’s notice how Negan had begun giving the other man a harder time since their conversations.

“Oh, I know, kid. You know that I have yours too, yeah?”

Before Carl could answer, the noise of a car and a loud alarm disrupted him. They turned to each other with wide eyes before speeding up, running swiftly back to camp. Each time, Carl hoped that one day his father would get out of one of the cars, returning order to this lawless world and each time he was disappointed. They came to a stop with quick breaths as they watched the others interact happily; Morales reunited with his family and Andrea with Amy. Carl felt that crushing disappointment again, was about to walk back to his tent when another car door opened.

“Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello. The guy's a cop like you. Rick Grimes.”

Carl couldn't believe his eyes. It felt like everything Carl had imagined and hoped for, he felt like throwing himself into his father’s arms but his feet felt stuck to the ground, afraid he was dreaming or imagining something out of the desperation for familiarity. His dad made the first move, muttered an, “Oh my God,” before he ran over, wrapping an arm around Carl’s shoulders and pulled him close. Despite the nervousness in his stomach about what would happen now, he felt the relief of his dad being here, knowing that it had to get better. He sunk into the warmth of his side. His touch made the cold air warmer, his future seeming a little less bleak with him here.

It felt like a miracle, he had begun the end of the world without a father and without anyone to understand him, spend time with him and now his father was alive and he had Negan with him. He pulled away from the embrace, saw the camper’s shocked yet smiling faces, saw the mixture of emotions in his mother’s face, the smile yet bitterness in Shane’s eyes. Then, he saw Negan grinning at him, eyes crinkling and felt his stomach swoop.

“Dad, you have some people to meet but meet Negan first, he’s kept me from completely losing it during this.” Negan gave him a fond look, nudging him gently, “Your son’s a lifesaver. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be food or one of those fuckin’ things by now.”

Rick raised his brow at Negan’s language but smiled anyway, shaking his hand. “Carl is something else, that’s for sure. Thank you for being there for him.” Lori rushed over, embracing Rick tightly while Negan raised a brow and led Carl away, walking to his tent. “Well damn. I guess miracles do happen, huh? I wonder why your buddy Shane lied though and how the hell it’s going to work around here now.”

Carl sat next to him, laying his head on Negan’s shoulder with a small sigh. “I know, I’m worried too. Between them both being leaders and my mom, something’s going to go bad soon.” Negan nodded, thumb brushing his knuckles as if to soothe him, the action making his lashes flutter shut.

“Don’t worry too much though. Enjoy it, it’s not every day that a miracle like this happens. People come back differently now. Not too much happiness left so trust me, enjoy this as much as you can.”

“You make me happy.” Carl wasn’t sure how the words had left his mouth, he tried to be careful and not become too sappy but it was almost impossible sometimes between his affection for Negan and the man’s actions. Negan let out a shuddery breath, repeating the touch of his thumb across Carl’s knuckles, “You make this shitty world better for me too, Carl. Don’t get too used to me saying that though. I got a reputation to uphold.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to damage your reputation,” Carl teased with a bright laugh making Negan snort, “Who’s teasing now, huh?”

Carl moved, laying down on his lap, his head resting on Negan’s legs, feeling exhilarated; his heart thudding in his chest, his stomach swooping and his fingertips tingling. Negan’s hand ran through his hair, tugging gently through the strands, occasionally rubbing at his scalp. Carl’s eyes fluttered shut and he was unable to hold back the soft noises the action brought out, flushing at hearing them. Negan laughed softly above him but didn’t stop and Carl had to stop himself from saying something stupid like, _“I want to stay like this forever.”_

“Tell me something”, Carl whispered, “like a story or something about you. Just anything.”

“Shit, okay. Hmm, well, I used to rebel against my parents all the time because they never gave me the goddamn time of day. They were the kind of parents that made me wonder, why be parents if you’re going to shitty ones, you know? I would go to concerts, skip church on Sundays to hang around with my friends. I’d get good grades on the subjects that I liked and made it clear that I would not be living the life they wanted for me. They wanted me in one of those fields like a doctor or a lawyer. I liked sports and books so I decided I’d become a sports coach or an English teacher. They couldn’t stand me or my leather jacket, my bad language or my loud so-called ‘devil’s music’.”

Carl hung on to every word, wanting to know him in and out and wanting Negan to know him like that too.

“Unfortunately, they thought that everything I did was to go against them and that wasn’t true. I was rebelling by being myself instead of who they wanted me to be, right? One day, I realised that I liked guys,” Negan’s voice lowered slightly and Carl felt his breath hitch. “I’m bisexual. You know what that means?”

Carl nodded, wanting to say, _me too._

“Well, I decided I’d go to a pride parade. I wasn’t going to risk dating a guy in that damn town, especially not back then. Too bad for me, they found out. Some friend of theirs was walking through town, protesting against the parade when he fuckin’ sees me in the crowd and drives back to tell my parents. I got home to my father being an asshole and my mother saying she’d pray for me. I told them they could fuck off; I took my shit and drove off in my beat-up car. I lived in a one-room apartment, carried on living without them.”

“Was it scary?” Carl whispered, leaning into Negan’s touch as the man kept petting his hair.

“Fuck yeah but I’ll tell you now, I never regretted it. I was better off without them and I never looked back. It wasn’t easy but I was free. Not that I ever dated a guy, but knowing I wasn’t hiding from liking ‘em? It felt good.”

Carl smiled, wanting to ask him for another story before he heard their names being called.

“Shit," Negan muttered while pulling back, “they probably want our help with setting up for dinner.”

They walked out of the tent, murmuring to each other as they walked towards the other campers. Shane watched them approach with a scoff, crossing his arms. “You finally going to help around here or do you plan on hanging around the kid some more?”

Negan didn’t take the bait, crouched to tend to the fire, “Seems to me like you’re the one being a kid. Carl, pass me that log, will you?”

Carl sat next to him, helped to add logs to the fire, suddenly captivated by the way that Negan’s face looked as the red, yellow, orange flames flickered and illuminated his face. Negan looked up at him, eyes sparkling as he handed him a package. They sat next to each other on a blanket as he tore open the plastic wrapping.

“Oh my god, how did you- “

“I have my ways. You feel like havin’ smores?”

The rest of the campers sat around, Shane still glaring at Negan and shaking his head at Carl as if disappointed. At that moment, Carl couldn’t care less about Shane’s disappointment or what would happen between him and his parents, the taste of the smores, Negan’s trust and the brightness of the stars occupying his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been a while! I've been a bit busy with school but hopefully, this longer chapter and its content more than makes up for it.

There were thousands of them, scattered across the fields; tiny dots of explosive colour clustered against the vivid green landscape, bursting with life. Carl laid on his back, the earth beneath him warm, soft and springy. The sun's rays embraced him and warmed him up as they scattered. His eyes turned, gazing over to the other side; there was a field full of flowers in full bloom, bright and colourful and vibrant in thousands of indescribable ways. Carl felt warm arms wrap around him, scruff burning slightly at his shoulder and he grinned, turning to face Negan, who in turn peppered small kisses over his cheeks, lips hovering-

"Mhm, good morning," 

Carl felt the edges of the dream float away as his eyes fluttered open to the deep rumble of Negan's voice in the morning, finding himself wrapped up in Negan's strong arms. They weren't in the fields, they were hidden away in Negan's tent, which Carl had snuck into last night after everyone had fallen asleep. Ever since his father had come back, the camp had felt slightly more relaxed in the sense that they felt safer, stronger. Their sense of safety made it easy to sneak past them towards Negan's tent. Carl nuzzled his face into Negan's neck, wishing, not for the first time, that they could stay inside this tent forever instead of facing what was outside. Negan's hands caressed his back, squeezing softly around his waist before sliding back up and running through his hair, tugging gently. 

"Good morning," he finally whispered back, awake enough to speak although sleep still pulled at him, the comfort of his dream like a siren's call. If he focused enough, Carl could hear the rustling of tents, the footsteps on the soil and tins cluttering; all signs of people waking up. Carol and his mother, who were already beginning chores and Shane who had been restless ever since his father had arrived. Carl wondered if he knew, if he had listened to Carl's careful footfalls and his whispered conversations with Negan through the weeks. Carl wondered if he knew; if anyone knew that they stayed up late, talking about nothing and everything all at once, that they were closer than friends should be. They should leave soon, start helping out with breakfast and chores before anyone could ask them any questions but moving was the last thing he wanted to do.

“You seem like you were having a nice dream,” Negan mumbled, hands still combing through Carl’s hair. Carl nodded, his own hands beginning their exploration at Negan’s strong, firm shoulders then moving down to his chest, noting the various tattoos that peeked at him through his white shirt. Hesitating, he tugged slightly at it, hoping Negan would get the message. The man looked down at him and grinned,

“You asking for something, Carl?”

“Yeah, dumbass, I want to see your tattoos.”

“Tell me about your dream and then maybe I’ll even give you a dance while I take it off.”

Carl felt himself flush and laughed, “Oh my God, shut up and take your shirt off.”

“Not going to tell me about your dream? Now I’m thinking there’s a reason,” he leered, a large grin forming over his face. Carl scoffed, shoving him lightly before sitting up, tracing the _Bisou_ tattoo with his fingers, transfixed. Negan leaned back, allowing Carl his exploration as he felt himself relax.

“Shane’s talking about leaving,” Carl whispered, his eyes not meeting Negan’s as he continued tracing the tattoos. Negan hummed below him, “I know. Heard him talking to your dad, they don’t exactly know if it’s safe to go there but they don’t think we should stay here for too long either, too exposed to walkers.”

Carl sighed and finally met Negan’s eyes, “I don’t know how to feel about leaving. I know it won’t be a choice and I know we’d have to leave eventually but what if something happens when we do? What if we’re in more danger by leaving?” He had known that they would have to leave soon, even with the relaxation at camp, the truth was that it wouldn’t be too hard for walkers to get close or even worse, people but the thought of leaving, a long trip on the road, it seemed dangerous too and just as exposed. Negan squeezed his hand gently and gave him a lopsided grin that made Carl’s chest feel tight, before standing up with a sigh.

“We’ll make it. We will. Before anything though, we better start helping out before we get fuckin’ questioned this early in the morning.” As Negan put on his shirt and jacket, Carl couldn’t help but wonder on that. _What would they ask? What would they say? What were they doing anyway?_

Carl stood up too, shrugged on his flannel before he made his way out of the tent, only to skid to a stop, suddenly frozen as he came face to face with Shane. He wondered if the man could hear his heart thudding in his chest. We weren’t doing anything, he almost said before he realised how suspicious that would sound. The sound of footfalls behind him alerted Carl that Negan was now just behind him, probably just as frozen as Shane frowned at them.

Before Shane could confront them, however, the sound of arguing drew their attention as his father tried to calm Daryl, who seemed as if he’d kill Rick given the chance. Shane gave them one last look before running in their direction, shouting at them to split it up. Carl shook slightly, knees suddenly feeling weak at the nearness of confrontation.

“Come on,” Negan muttered, “let’s go see what the hell they’re on about.”

“We have to go back, Lori. We never should have left him there. Maybe Merle Dixon is capable of leaving me to thirst to death but me? I can’t leave a man to die. I’ll be careful but I have to go.”

His mother shook her head as she ran her hands through her hair. “It’s too dangerous! You barely made it back to us and now you want to go back? For someone like Merle? No, no, stay with us.” Carl understood his mother, wishing his father would just stay with them but he knew him and his father was not the kind of man to let another die, especially if he could prevent it. No matter how much he wanted to argue, Carl knew it would be pointless. He stepped in between them and hugged Rick tightly, “Be careful. I know there’s no point in trying to convince you otherwise so I won’t, dad, but be safe.”

Carl could imagine the look on his mother’s face, angry and betrayed but he saw the pride on his father’s and ignored the slight pull of guilt. Rick ruffled his hair slightly with a smile, “I’ll be back, Carl. That’s a promise. We’ll be safer when we come back from this because I didn’t just leave Merle Dixon, I dropped a large bag of guns that will do us some good against anything that comes our way.” Rick, Glenn, Daryl and T-Dog would be going, leaving camp to go back to the city and Carl watched as Shane shook his head, muttering to Rick about the dangers in the same way that Lori had.

As he heard the rumble of the engine, he waved to his father before walking back to the rest of the group who were serving breakfast. Carl grabbed two servings and made his way past everyone quickly as he walked off to find Negan. He kept his focus, aware of his surroundings as he walked back to the tents, coming to a stop as he heard his mother and Shane, low voices amongst a few trees. Carl noted the distance from everyone and wondered if he should even approach before shaking his head and marching towards them, ready to shout if he had to when he took it in.

“This has to stop. My husband is _alive_ , contrary to what you told me. He isn’t dead in some hospital or eaten by walkers or shot. He is _alive_ and we can’t do whatever we were doing before.”

When Shane walked closer, she stepped back. He paused, looking at her before letting out a shaky sigh. “Lori, I thought he was dead. Don’t look at me like that, alright? I- I put my head on his chest and listened for a heartbeat and there wasn’t one. Maybe it was the gunfire or how scared I was, but I didn’t hear it. I didn’t lie, Lori- “

She scoffed, pushing him away. “You lied! I don’t want to hear anymore, Shane. It’s over, don’t come near me or my family again. We’re done.”

“Wait, wait. Don’t go, don’t. Listen, there are things you don’t know, about Carl. Just stay with me and let’s talk.”

Carl felt his hands tremble as he froze again, terrified of what Shane would say next.

_I don’t think Carl is straight. Carl goes to Negan’s tent every night. They flirt when they talk._

Lori shook her head, “Enough, I don’t want to hear another lie out of your mouth. Do us a favour and stay away.”

Carl walked away quickly before they could spot him, his heart thundering in his chest as he passed blurs of greens and browns, coming to face the tents again. Negan’s tent was slightly open and Carl made his way toward it, suddenly feeling as nervous as when they had met. He leaned down through the gap and walked in, Negan grinning the moment he saw him.

“Hey, kid. You brought breakfast, I see.”

Carl hummed, handing Negan his wrapped breakfast and sitting down next to him as he prepared to dig into his food, the nervousness making him hungrier than usual. He was glad his mother had ended it with Shane but the thought of them being together made him feel angry, even angrier knowing that his father had been alive the whole time, desperate to find them. He knew Shane well enough to know that he wouldn’t back down from this so easily, wouldn’t just give up on his mother. The thought made him wince; his father would realise eventually and what then?

“You’re real quiet, kid. Something on your mind?”

“My mom broke it off with Shane and he told her that there were things about me that she didn’t know.”

Negan inhaled sharply and shook his head. “Good on her for leavin’ him but he should mind his own fuckin’ business. I’m guessing he’s not good at that.”

“I think he wanted to tell her about how I was in your tent today.”

“And every day for the last month or so.”

Carl flushed at the reminder and ducked his head, hoping Negan didn’t see the blush that was quickly spreading. “I think he knows that I’m not...”

_Not straight. Very much into you. Hoping you’ll kiss me every time we talk._

“I’m not straight.”

Negan snorted and looked at him, grinning. “Yeah, no shit, Carl. Nice of you to tell me though.”

Carl elbowed him, trying to fight the smile on his face. “This is _serious_. You might know but nobody else does. I don’t know how they’d feel or what they’d do. Before this, my mom wanted me to settle down with a nice girl and all that _.” And you’re not a nice girl_ , he wants to say, _but I do want to settle down with you._

Negan rolled his eyes.

“Fuck that. Do what you want, Carl. It’s none of their fuckin’ business who you’re into and if they give you trouble, they’ll be dealing with me, alright?”

Carl smiled at him; eyes watery. He wondered sometimes what he would’ve done if this hadn’t happened if the world hadn’t ended and he hadn’t met Negan. Would he ever have had the courage to come out to his parents? To do anything else but what they said? It was a difficult thing, not wanting to disappoint your mom and dad, wanting their approval yet rejecting what they wanted for you. He’d been dealing with that for years, on the edge of being desperate to keep them happy but also being desperate to be his person; to travel where he wanted, to study what he wanted, to date who he wanted.

_“What’re you working on?”_

_His mother was setting the laundry to dry, wearing an apron dusted with flour, her hair tied up messily; easier to work with._

_“A project for school. We have to write about family models and how they change.”_

_Lori hummed, “You, me and your dad, that’s a perfect family model right there. You’ve got it easy for this essay, honey.”_

_“Well, there are other families too. Different from ours, I mean.”_

_His mother turned to look at him, a slight frown on her face._

_“Sure. But a perfect family is a perfect family.”_

_We’re not a perfect family, he wants to say. It’s okay to admit that this one is messed up sometimes. He heard how his parents would argue, his father; quiet and head lowered, trying to keep the peace no matter how much it frustrated his mother. Lori; shouting until her voice went raw, saying this she later regretted as Rick slammed the door shut on his way to work; his small sign of rebellion._

_“What if I wanted to have something different when I have my own family?”_

_Lori looked at him strangely, as if not quite sure what she was seeing._

_“Why would you ever want anything other than perfect? Normal?”_

_“Didn’t you ever want something else? Other than this?”_

_Lori shook her head at him, the strange look still occupying her face. “No, Carl, and you shouldn’t either. You’ll understand when you’re older, when you find a nice girl to settle down with and have a couple of kids. This is all you need. This is a family.”_

“Oh shit, kid. Don’t cry, come here.”

Negan’s strong arms wrapped around him, not too gentle and not too tight. Carl let himself be held, desperate for something else to focus on. “My mom wouldn’t accept it, I don’t think. I don’t know about my dad. I don’t want to disappoint them but I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“Then don’t pretend.”

Carl’s heart hammered in his chest the moment their eyes met.

_I want to kiss you._

“Negan, can… can I- “

He smiled knowingly, his hands reaching up to cradle Carl’s face, thumbs gently brushing at his cheeks. His eyes lowered to Carl’s lips then back up to meet his eyes. It felt as if time had stopped for a few moments, just for them. He could no longer hear the rest of the group outside or the birds or the wind. All he could hear was his own heart and their hitched breathing.

“You can have whatever you want, Carl.”

Negan stayed still, allowing him to take the first move. It was an olive branch, an offer. It was everything he wanted, everything he had been wanting. He didn’t hesitate to move, pressed slightly closer and tilted his head, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed their lips together. He was kissing a _man_. Not just any man, he was kissing _Negan_. His lips were softer than he had imagined and warm, so gentle that Carl never wanted to stop kissing him. Negan’s hand still cradled his face, the other reached up slightly to tug on his hair before pulling away, their lips inches from each other.

The first kiss; slow and uncertain.

The second; soft and smooth

The third; a rhythm developed as Negan’s lips caught his again, gently tugging on his bottom lip. Carl moaned softly, overwhelmed by his kisses, his touches, his closeness. Carl moved to his lap and sat on top of Negan; knees on either side of his thighs. A small deeper moan answered back as his hands began to wander, tugging on his hair, grasping his waist, caressing his face. Carl never wanted to stop, wanted to kiss him until his lips ached from it, wanted to stay on his lap forever and ignore everything else. Negan’s hands began to touch bare skin as they went above his shirt, small shocks making him tremble with every touch. Carl’s hips began to rock of their own volition, needy for friction as Negan’s rough palms continued their exploration.

Negan pulled away again, panting softly as he leaned in close once more, tilting his head and kissing his jaw then going down and pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck, biting down occasionally. Carl whined, aware of the marks that would be there, reminding him of this after. Negan moved back up and kissed him again before trailing up and pressing kisses everywhere he could reach, his forehead, his left cheek, his right cheek, his closed eyelids and then back to his lips.

A loud commotion made them break apart as shouting caught their attention. Carl tugged at Negan, hoping they could just ignore it, not ready to let go of this moment just yet. Negan smiled gently, cradled his face again and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “We’re not done yet, badass and that’s a promise, but we should probably check what the hell is going on.” Carl nodded, annoyed at the interruption as he shakily stood from Negan’s lap, suddenly very aware of his flushed cheeks, his messy hair and the hickeys that would be on his neck by now. Negan stood too, and grasped his hand, leading them both outside. Carl could barely focus on what the shouting was about, his mind still on what had just happened, too busy thinking of Negan’s kisses to focus on what was happening.

Shane stormed off, pausing when he saw the state they were in and scoffing before walking off in the other direction. Carl noted his bloodied fists and his eyes snapped up when he saw the crowd of women; Andrea, Amy, Jackie and Carol, who was behind her husband whose face was bruised everywhere, his eye beginning to swell. Carl frowned, putting the events together and shook his head. There was a lot that Shane did that was wrong but he wouldn’t blame him for this. Ed Peletier was a bad man and an even worse husband. The man took off, hiding in one of the tents while the four women whispered amongst each other.

“We’re going to have to something about some people in this group.”

Carl nodded. The tension that was building could only go on for so long.

“Before anything though,” Negan brushed a stray lock from Carl’s face, “I believe I made you a promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They officially get together and mess around a bit at the CDC :) but not before Lori and Shane dampen Carl's mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've written for this story so hopefully, it was worth it!

Carl was unsure of how much time had passed since they had gone back to Negan’s tent; time felt far away and reality felt fuzzy as Negan kissed him over and over. His lips were so full and felt so good everywhere they touched, his hands were warm and every part of him they touched felt on fire, left him shaking for more. Carl felt exposed, aware that cloth was the only layer separating them from the rest of their group, that at any moment someone might open the zip of their tent and everyone would know. Negan pulled away for a moment and sat up, smiling down at him.

“You still with me, sweetheart?”

God, the way the man _talked_ made him ache, desperate for anything Negan had to give. The pet name made him flush, he felt special and safe as if they were a couple in their bed and not something unnamed making out in a tent at the end of the world. Negan’s strong hands caressed his waist then traced up to his face, brushing stray locks back. His weight made him feel grounded but every touch made the world feel fuzzy, out of focus.

“I’m with you, I-I’m just overwhelmed.”

 _I want you so much_ , he wants to say, _that I don’t know what to do with all this need I have for you._

Negan smiled and moved off from on top off him, shuffling down next to him before Carl could complain and beg for him not to stop. “I didn’t say _stop_. I just said I was overwhelmed.” He didn’t want to wait, knew how dangerous this world was, that tomorrow they might not even be alive. Negan huffed and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait, baby. Hold out for me a little longer and I’ll make it really good for you.” Carl sighed, relaxing into the embrace with a small nod. “So, what now?”

“Now, we should go help with dinner before I’m tempted to go back on what I just said about waiting.” Negan stood up, tugged Carl with him and snorted at the state of him. He leaned closer and ran his hands through Carl’s hair, smoothing it back and buttoning up his wrinkled flannel. As Negan unzipped their tent, Carl wondered if he should voice his worries, ask him what they were, suddenly annoyed with how childish that question sounded in his head. _What are we? What are we doing? Will you get tired of me? If someone found out, would you deny it, would you be ashamed to be seen with me?_

As they walked out, Carl noticed how on edge they all seemed; Glenn, T-Dog, Daryl and his father still hadn’t come back and it was dark out already. Carol and her daughter, Sophia were by the campfire, whispering to each other and looking back at the tent where Ed was, with anxiety all over their faces, probably terrified of what Ed would do once he recovered from Shane’s fists. His mother was pacing on her own, near her own tent, Shane stared at her from the RV, a look on his face that Carl couldn’t quite understand. His focus shifted to Amy and Andrea who approached Carol and her daughter.

“Don’t you worry about Ed,” Andrea told her firmly, Amy at her side nodding, “None of us will ever let that pig lay his hands on you again.”

Carol seemed conflicted as if she wanted to smile and defend Ed all at once. They must have picked up on it because they didn’t push the matter, simply sat next to them and changed the subject, the air still tense, anxious. Negan was grabbing wood, piling it on the fire to keep it burning as Lori began to cook the fish that Amy and Andrea had caught earlier by the lake. As Carl began to walk up to Negan, Lori subtly moved in front of him. “Carl, can I speak to you for a minute?”

Carl thought back to the conversation that he had overheard in the forest between his mother and Shane. Had Shane told his mother after all? Anxiety churned inside of him as he nodded, following her further away from the fire. His mother sat down on a chopped log, staring at him for a moment before looking down at the floor. “I think we should talk. There’s a lot that needs to be said, about your father, about Shane…about Negan.” There it was. She knew she had to know with the way that she had looked at him, the way she had dragged it out. Carl knew that she would tell Rick, cry and rant about how Carl was not the way he should be, that the changing world had changed him too much, that he had been corrupted.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think that you do. Shane has been telling me things that are…unexpected. He says that you sneak away at night into Negan's tent and stay there till morning, that you talk a lot to each other and that yesterday, he saw you both come out of his tent looking…dishevelled.”

He looked away from her, focusing on the burning fire, on the warmth of it and the warmth he felt when Negan was next to him, aware of how cold he suddenly felt. He loved his mother, despite her beliefs, despite the constant arguments with his father and her silent disapproval of him since the world had ended. Despite it all, she was his mother and the urge to surrender, to be what she wanted him to was there but so was his desire to be free, to hold Negan’s hand without being scared.

Carl looked back up at her.

“Shane was telling the truth. He’s an asshole for telling you something that isn’t his business just so you’ll give him the time of the day again but it’s true.”

His mother stared at him, her jaw slack.

“Carl,” she frowned, “don’t use that kind of language. What… what do you mean that it’s true?”

“I like Negan. I sneak into his tent when everyone is asleep and I talk to him until I pass out. I kissed him yesterday because I like him and because I wanted to. I like Negan, I like a man and I’m not going to pretend that I don’t anymore for your sake because I don’t exist just for you-“

Her hand made contact with his cheek, cutting him off. Immediately, she seemed to realise what she had done, guilt all over her face. She gasped, hands reaching for him as he stepped back from her. “Carl, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, please wait.” He couldn’t look at her, feeling sick as he moved away from her and deeper into the woods, his eyes blurry with tears as he gasped for breath. Everything seemed to be spinning as he tried to focus, to no success. His shaky legs collapsed on him as he fell to the ground, his hands digging into the dirt to ground himself as he sobbed. He had come out to her, showed her one of his deepest secrets and she had hit him.

Carl felt tired deep down to his bones; he was angry, terrified and heartbroken all at once, the combination draining and exhausting. He thought of camp and the warmth of Negan’s arms in his tent, their hideaway from everything and everyone else, suddenly yearning to be back. Pushing away his dread, he stood up shakily and began to stumble back to camp. He passed blurs of emerald and brown and began to speed up as he heard far away cries. His heart pounded in his chest as all of the possibilities crept into his mind; walkers could have broken past their defences, scavengers could have attacked, the camp could have burnt.

When he finally arrived in sight of the fire again, relief and alarm flooded over him; there was no burnt camp or scavengers but walkers had gotten past their defences. Carl pulled out his pocket knife, and grabbed the nearest walker, grunting with the effort to stab its head as the walker tried to snap at his hand. There were many, suddenly focused on him as he made his way through the group of walkers. The squelch of brains, the screams of the others and the rumbles of walkers were barely audible over his own heart as his eyes desperately tried to find Negan amongst panicked campers and walkers. With every walker he put down, another seemed to take its place, rushing towards him, growling and foaming at the mouth. It was stronger than the others he had taken down, his weight making him stumble to the ground with a gasp as its hands tried to scratch him, to tear him apart and his mouth got closer, desperate for a bite of living flesh.

His hands scrambled to push the walker off him, to find his pocket knife in the dark as those sharp teeth got closer and closer to exposed skin. He kicked and pushed to no avail, but before he could scream for help, the walker stopped moving, his jaw frozen wide, inches from him as he heard the sound of a knife being pulled through the skin. He looked up to see Negan whose eyes were wide, staring at him for a few moments before grabbing the walker, and throwing it off him quickly. Instantly, his hands were tracing over his face, his arms, his chest.

“Are you alright? Carl, sweetheart, did that bastard get you?”

Carl teared up again at seeing his concern, his care for him. He wouldn’t give this man up, not ever, even if it meant disappointing other people. He reached for him and kissed him, smaller hands cradling his face and holding him close as their lips met over and over before Negan pulled away with a gasp, his larger hands grasping his smaller ones.

“Baby,” Negan murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“It didn’t get me, you saved me, you-“

Negan cut him off, pressing kisses all over his cheeks, his forehead, his lids and back to his lips. Nobody had noticed, too caught up in the aftermath of the chaos to see them huddled together in the dark but even if they had, Carl didn’t care, he was tired of pretending. “I’m right here with you,” Carl whispered, entwining their hands together and squeezing. Negan grinned and Carl could feel it against his cheek as he whispered back, “Damn right you are. Come on, baby. Let’s get you warmed up.”

They stood together, Negan rushing them past everyone else as they attempted to figure out how many were injured. In his vision, he could see that his father and the others had come back in time to help as Shane shouted something that Carl couldn’t quite figure out, his exhausted mind catching up to him. He stumbled slightly and Negan, noting his exhaustion unzipped his tent quickly and laid him down in the soft blankets, covering him up. Negan laid next to him, holding him tightly. “I was so worried, Carl. You weren’t back and then so many of those fuckin’ walkers came out of nowhere and I couldn’t find you. I thought they got you and then I did find you and… fuck, I was so scared that I was too late.”

Carl intertwined their hands again, shaking slightly. “My mom asked to talk to me. Shane told her everything just so she’d talk to him. She confronted me and I got tired of it and said it was true and she hit me… I think I had a panic attack in the woods but I wanted to be near you so I ran back and when I heard the screams, I thought...”

Negan frowned, sitting up. “Hold the fuck up. Did she hit you? She fuckin’ hit you?” Carl winced at the volume, his hands cradling his face in an attempt to calm him. “I know how it sounds but calm down. We’re here and we’re together, I don’t want to think about what she did anymore, okay?” As mad as he was, the best thing they could do was avoid any more confrontation tonight. “Listen to me,” Carl murmured, “if you really want to say anything about it to her, wait till tomorrow. It’s late and everyone’s tired and scared, the last thing we need is more arguing. Let’s get some sleep, okay?” Carl seemed to hesitate for a moment before pressing their lips together gently and pulling away with a smile, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

The hours passed quickly and before they knew it, it was morning again. This morning, however, was not like the others; they didn’t wake slowly, murmuring to each other or listening to the birdsong but rather to distant cries outside of their tent and arguing. The air felt tense, the aftermath of last night still on everyone’s mind despite the attempt to push it away with sleep. In their rush to get to the tent, Carl hadn’t even noticed if anyone had been attacked or bit. With a sigh, he pushed himself out of Negan’s embrace and decided to let the man rest while he surveyed the damage done. As soon as he walked a few steps out of the tent, the smell of death filled his nostrils and he gagged slightly; there were piles of walkers being burnt, blood splattered all over the ground and holes dug in the dirt. With careful steps, Carl noted who had been bit. Ed Peletier was laid down, his face smashed as Carol and Daryl pushed him into one of the dug holes. No one seemed to be intent on mourning him. Opposite, Amy was also laid down, almost untouched if not for the bite on her neck. Andrea was leant over her, she sobbed and murmured to her as the group observed. Amy’s brain was untouched, Carl noted, she would come back soon. The last thing Andrea wanted was to hear that, he decided before he stepping towards his father, who gave him a shaky smile upon seeing him approach.

“What’s the plan now, dad? We can’t stay here anymore, can we?”

For weeks, this camp and Negan’s tent had been Carl’s haven, his oasis and his escape. If last night hadn’t happened, the last thing he would want would be to leave but last night _had_ happened and people had died. This camp and its defences were never going to last, not in this world. Negan’s tent was a piece of cloth, the tent was never what it was about, but Negan himself. As long as they were united, he could brave this world and whatever came with it. They would find their haven somewhere else, somewhere safe where they could really build something, a home even.

“No, we can’t. I know you wanted to stay but I need to keep you and this group safe. I’ll take us somewhere good, Carl. I promise. I’ve been thinking about a place that I was told about by the man who saved me; the CDC. It would be protected, it would have supplies and information. It could be something, a start.” Before Carl could answer, he heard heavy steps behind him. Shane stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the RV. “That’s not a solution Rick, that’s a stop along the way. The CDC is gone, man, I’m telling you. We haven’t heard any communication in weeks. Fort Knox is where we should go. Right, Lori?”

Rick raised his brow, looking towards Lori who shook her head, avoiding Carl’s eyes. _Would they ever talk about what had happened last night_ , Carl wondered, _or would they pretend that it had never happened? Had she told his father?_ Finally, Lori replied, “I’m with Rick on this. The CDC, if it could have answers and it is closer then we should go there. There’s less of us now, it’s too risky to go too far without supplies.” Rick nodded and alerted the rest of the group, “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to give Andrea a few minutes to say goodbye while we do our sweep around camp and grab everything we need and pile into the cars. We head to the CDC, it’s our best chance right now.”

Carl saw Shane walking off and his father ruffled his hair, grabbed his gun and followed him into the woods. He watched, unsure of whether Shane could be trusted around his father right now and felt himself relax slightly, his tense stance deflating as he saw Daryl and Dale join them. Carol and Lori walked around camp with Glenn, collecting their tents and bags, piling them into the cars. He thought of Negan who he had let sleep in and walked towards his tent, slipping in quickly. Negan was indeed still asleep and Carl fought the desire to watch him, relaxed and content, but they had to move. He shook the man gently and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Negan, wake up. We have to go.”

Negan stirred and sat up quickly, “We’re leaving? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He stumbled to his feet, threw on his leather jacket and tugged on his jeans, quickly slid his belt into place. Carl watched, slightly transfixed in him even when the man was in a hurry. “It’s not a big deal, I thought you needed the rest. We’re going to the CDC, everyone’s getting into the cars while others do one last sweep in case that we miss anything. Come on, let’s get a good spot.”

Negan hummed and they exited the tent, quickly dismantled it and rolled it. As his father, Shane, Daryl and Dale returned, Negan and Carl threw their belongings into the back of a car and shuffled together in the back. Carl tensed when he saw his parents move to the front of the car as he realised, they’d have to be together for the whole journey. Instantly, a wave of frustration swept over him; how was he meant to spend time with Negan now? As if the man was a mind reader, he threw on a spare blanket over their legs, intertwined their hands under the blanket and winked at him. While his father turned on the volume of the radio which was playing an old CD, Negan whispered, “We’ll have to get creative.”

Carl snorted and leaned his head on his shoulder, “Good luck with that, I’m catching some of that sleep I let you have this morning.” The idea of sleep sounded perfect, he had woken early and the stress from yesterday still had not worn off. Immediately, he felt the squeeze of their hands and Negan’s warmth as he shifted closer subtly, the comfort lulling him to sleep. The journey passed that way; they slept and they occasionally talked when they were both awake, about anything but their relationship or something that would raise his parent’s eyebrows. It was a long drive and by the time they finally arrived, the night was falling.

The second they left the car, Carl noticed two things; the stench of death from the ground littered with dead bodies and the cold that surrounded them which chilled him to the bone. Everyone muttered, staring at the remains of what they had thought of as their only hope. Piles of corpses were on the floor and cars, flies buzzing around the bodies. They headed past the bodies slowly, carefully and aware that any moment, one of them might move.

“I don’t think anyone’s here, Rick.”

“You’ve brought us to a graveyard! Let’s get the hell out of here.”

His father refused to listen, banging on the steel doors over and over. There was no answer. Again, and again, he hit the doors. Carl tensed at movement nearby; bins clattered, trash spilling to the floor as walkers emerged from their secluded spot. “Guys,” he alerted, “we have to go. Dad, we should try again tomorrow but it’s not safe.” The walkers got closer with every bang on the door but Rick didn’t stop.

“Hey! I know you’re in there!”

“Rick, we have to go.”

“You’re letting us die out here! Kids, families. If you don’t open these doors… you’re responsible!”

“No one’s here, honey. We have to go.”

As soon as Lori spoke, the doors lifted.

The bright lights inside made him wince, his eyes had become accustomed to natural light, with his flashlight being the only real exception. Negan tugged at his hand and they ran in along with the others before the walkers could reach them. Panting, they leant against the wall and made sure that they had all gotten inside. Carol and Sofia were sat down on the floor, T-Dog and Daryl next to them while his father, Lori and Shane stood in a corner. Dale was with Glenn, checking on Andrea who was sat on the floor too, barely looking present. A man stood in front of them, stared at them as if he wasn’t sure that they were real. Not a good first sign, Carl thought.

“Anyone infected?”

“No. None of us are bit.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?” The man looked hopeless, tired, not exactly the image he had hoped for. This man was either not someone with answers or the answers were nothing to be hopeful about. “A chance,” Rick answered, “we’re a group that’s fought and travelled a lot to get here. There are walkers out there and this was supposed to be safe. A chance is all we ask.” The man observed them for a moment before answering, “That's asking an awful lot these days. You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission. If you have anything, bring it in with you then follow me for the blood test. I’ve already broken a lot of rules letting you in here.”

The blood test passed quickly and everyone began to explore the floors available. The building, despite its exterior, was comfortable on the inside. There was a library, a games room and several rooms with built-in bathrooms. It had the comforts and luxuries that Carl thought he would never see again. This is what he wanted, he thought, to share with Negan someday.

“Psst, Carl.”

He looked up to see Negan grinning at him, holding a bundle of clean clothes in his hand. “Baby, you have to check this out. The showers have hot water. We get clean clothes and food after too. Come on.” They were sharing a room, he realised, flushing. This was the most privacy they might ever have, the camp was the reality now but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t make the most of this place. Negan opened the nearby door and closed it, locking it. As if presenting a product, he splayed his hands around the room. There was a double bed, a bookcase, a desk and another pile of clean clothes in a chair. The bathroom was clean, with a shower and towels. Carl almost couldn’t believe his eyes. “We have this to ourselves?” Negan smiled and thumbed at his waist, “Come on, baby. Let’s go make use of that hot water, hmm?”

The bathroom was warm. After starting the shower, Carl let out a relieved sigh the moment he peeled off his clothes and felt the hot spray of water on his skin. Negan was already lathered in soap as he cleaned himself up and Carl couldn’t help the wandering of his eyes; the man was beautiful. Reaching up, he lathered shampoo in his hand and began running his hands through Negan’s hair, tugging at the strands. The man sighed, slacking slightly at the sensation. Carl no longer felt the nervousness from before, only exhilaration at the thought of what they could do. His hands moved down to cup Negan’s face and he pulled the man closer, pressing kisses to his cheeks and his lips before moving down to his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses there that made Negan’s knees feel weak.

“Baby,” he mumbled as Carl sucked a bruise into his skin, moaning quietly at the sensation. Carl hummed in response, trailing back to his lips and pulling him into a deep kiss. Carl felt like he was in _heaven._ Negan melted against him, kissing him back and wrapping his arms around his waist. Carl could almost feel sparks across his skin everywhere that Negan touched. Negan nipped gently at his lower lip, unable to get enough of the kiss, of Carl. He gasped slightly, parting his lips as Negan’s tongue slipped against his, sucking gently. Carl’s hands trembled as he messed with Negan’s hair, wrapping his arms around his neck. Carl broke the kiss to take a much-needed breath before grinning at the man and tangling his fingers in his hair again. “Don’t stop,” he panted, “I really don’t want to stop.”

Negan smiled, rubbing their noses together, “Today’s your lucky day then,” he laughed, before tilting his head and slotting their lips together. His hands ran from his waist to his back, to his chest, exploring every inch of him. It was intoxicating, it felt like a drug and salvation all at once. Negan knew he would never get enough of this, of feeling his skin on his, of kissing Carl’s soft, full lips, of holding him close. He deepened the kiss again, sucking gently on Carl’s lower lip, eliciting a soft whimper from him as he pulled away. Carl’s cheeks were flushed red and his lips wet as he panted softly. “You’re so, so beautiful,” Negan whispered, cradling his face in his hands as his eyes roamed over him, taking in every detail; from the bright blue of his eyes to the light freckles that dusted his flushed cheeks.

“I want-I want to make you feel good,” Despite the soft words, there was a fire in Carl’s eyes, defiance that was always there. Negan smiled, pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Let me return the favour?”

Carl got to his knees shakily and pressed his hands to Negan’s thighs for balance. He took a breath, his hand grasped Negan’s cock and stroked it, his movements unsure but firm as he jerked up and down, drunk of the sounds of Negan’s moans as he threw his head back. Carl swiped his thumb across the leaking tip hesitantly then firmly as Negan got louder. “Baby, Carl, baby, please.” Precum slid across his tongue, the taste salty-sweet as the head of Negan’s cock hit the back of his throat. Carl hesitated for a second, pulled back slightly and allowed Negan to rock shallowly into his mouth. Negan’s head fell back again, despite his efforts to focus on Carl’s face as he groaned throaty and low at the sensation. Carl could feel a strange pride well up inside him; he was the one making Negan come undone, he was the one affecting him even on his knees.

A forbidden thought tugged at Carl’s mind and he pulled away, panting gently at his thigh. “Negan,” he mumbled, his voice wrecked, “I want you to fuck my mouth. I need it, please, please.” Carl didn’t know where it had come from but the idea had bloomed in his mind and desperation filled his entire being at the thought. Negan’s legs trembled at the thought and he shuddered, “You want it, baby? You want me to fuck you until I come down your throat? Or maybe across that pretty face?” Carl’s own cock twitched at his dirty talk and he whined, desperate for anything he would give him. “Okay, sweetheart, open wide for me.”

Carl knew what was coming but he still wasn't prepared when Negan tugged at his hair sharply and pistoned his hips forward, every thrust making Negan’s cock hit the back of his throat. It was too much and never enough as euphoria filled him. Carl tried not to choke but it was almost impossible with how large he was, every thrust leaving him gasping for air. “You look so good choking on my dick, baby. Does that feel good?”

All Carl could do was moan around his length desperately as his eyes watered at the sensations. An ache built in his jaw with every thrust but he never wanted it to stop, he ached for the rush he felt with every tug of his hair, every sharp thrust of Negan’s hips and every word that left the man’s lips, just for him. His vision began to go hazy around the edges when Negan pressed down for too long, the feeling made him pulse. He felt himself right on the edge despite not even having been touched. Negan’s hands wandered to his hair again and tugged, “Don’t pass out on me yet, sweetheart. You’re doing so good, Carl, so good. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Carl nodded desperately or tried to. The compliments made him feel like he was soaring in his fucked-out state, so focused on making Negan come that he could barely pay attention to his own cock, leaking at the tip with every thrust of his hips. Negan’s hand trailed down to his jaw and squeezed his cheeks together, making his mouth feel tighter. Carl whined high pitched as he sucked harder, desperate to please, to taste him down his throat.

“Are you ready for Daddy to come down your throat, baby?”

The question had him mewling, trembling desperately as he realised, he was going to come the same moment that Negan did. Negan was whispering above him, murmuring how good he was, how good he felt, over and over, the praise making his eyelashes flutter shut. “Baby,” Negan moaned, his voice just as wrecked as Carl’s, “look at me.” Carl forced himself to look, feeling on the edge with every thrust and praise that Negan gave him. “You’re such a good boy, you’re _my_ good boy.”

With that, he was gone, thoughts scattered as he felt euphoria flood through him. Blinding pleasure rushed through his body as he trembled, his cock twitched at the same moment that Negan’s come started pouring down his throat; thick and copious. He heard Negan cry out his name as he came and all he could do was moan around Negan’s pulsing cock, his own pulsing in time with Negan’s last thrusts. At some point, Negan pulled back, his cock sliding across Carl’s tongue, the movement finally allowing Carl the necessary air as he gasped for breath. Everything felt overwhelming as he was still on that high of having pleased Negan, of having come untouched just from Negan’s cock in his mouth. He felt like he was floating outside of his own body and luckily, Negan swooped him up before his knees gave in.

“You were so good, Carl.”

Negan pressed soft kisses to his cheeks as he hauled them both out of the shower, setting him gently on the bed. Carl’s legs were still shaking, his throat felt raw and he had never felt so good. “That felt so good,” Carl mumbled, “I liked making you feel good. I think we missed out on dinner though.”

“Not on dessert,” Negan snickered making Carl laugh, “Shut up. You owe me dinner now.”

As Negan turned off the lamp, shrouding them in darkness, Carl thought of his questions earlier and back to the bravery he had with his mother. Without hesitation, he spoke out, “Negan, wait. Don’t go to sleep yet. Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” Negan answered with a yawn and Carl gave him a look before realising he couldn’t see it in the dark. “I’m serious. Are we, are we together?” It felt almost childish to ask but he needed to know because what he felt for Negan was not something he could easily move on from, it ran deep and Carl didn’t want to ever let this go. Negan turned on the light again and faced him, lacing their hands together. “I want to be together, hell, I already consider us together but it’s not just me. What about you, baby? What do you want from this?”

Immeasurable affection filled him and he smiled gently, “I want you all the time, Negan, even when you’re frustrating. I want to be together; I want this for as long as we can have it.”

Negan leaned in close and pressed their lips together softly. “Then we’re together.”


End file.
